A/04 - The Beginning

A/04 - Twelve (12)

I wake myself early in order to hunt before Samarius wakes. To be completely honest, he is pathetic at hunting, but his primitive temper forbids me from doing a ‘mans’ job. His sexist remark angers me and tells me that his value of my skills pass unappreciated through his eyes. It encourages me, strangely enough.

I softly creep through the wooden floors of the house, down the steps that lead up to the small level I own just for my bed, and across the floor between the fire and the couch. No noise escapes the planks and I almost giggle in excitement. It’s been so long since I’ve been able to hunt with not a soul but mine, and I look forward to it dearly.  The fire is extinguished and I look over the soot remembering the night before. Caspar was actually a wonderful cook, to my surprise. We had game in a broth, with small vegetables diced to sit in it. Samarius enjoyed helping him, by cutting everything up. I savoured up the time I had to sit and calm down – I finally wasn’t cooking for a night. That diminished quickly and within two days I was back in the kitchen after my hunts. It’s been a week and a half since I swam in the lake with Samarius, and he’s been ever so distant since.

I perch my arrow up against my chest, aiming at a small animal scurrying across the dry ground. It’s beady eyes scan the area for any danger, before continuing across the landscape. It doesn’t spot me, and as soon as it reaches a tree to climb, I shoot it through the eye - a clean and precise shot.

I run over to pick the animal up, adding it too my small bundle of food I’ve gathered from the surrounding woods. I recall the time when Samarius once brought poison ivy home to eat. He was bound in bed for almost three days, and I told Caspar I wouldn’t be looking after him. I once came home after hunting and found Samarius on the floor, his face contorted in frustration as he tried not to itch. I smile at the thought, remembering how I felt when I saw him. That’s what you get for not listening to me.

After that incident I told him that I’d teach him how to tell what berries and plants to gather, but I guess I never really wanted to. The more time I spend with him, the closer we get. I told myself at the beginning of this I wouldn’t attach myself to anyone, so when I was ready, I’d have nothing to lose.

With my hips almost dragging I decide to head back to the hut. I feel a light sprinkle of water on my back, when I know it’s going to start raining. The rain is only light at first, though it progressively becomes heavier. I slosh through the mud and begin to run back to the hut. The animal’s blood has drained from its body, letting my swing it over my back. I pant and heave as I rush back to the familiar wooden house. A light emits from the front door and I know that they’re both up. Samarius will not be happy. I step, soaking, in to the cover and on to the porch of the building to greet a nervous looking Caspar.

“Sam-“

“I know.” I say, heading in to the hut. I’m greeted with a loud roar.

“You know you’re not supposed to hunt early in the morning!” He screams, face scrunched up in rage. I step back, suddenly afraid.

“I’ve been with you for three months almost, four if you count the asylum. I thought you trusted me!” I shout back, my fierce temper kicking in.

“I tell you one little rule and you completely ignore it!” He shouts.

“How do you think we’re supposed to get food, then?” I scream back.

“We have food!”

"We’re stocking up for the winter!”

“You’re not safe!”

“What do you mean, I’m not safe?” I whisper. “I thought we were safe here …” I trail off. The words begin to flow out of Samarius’ mouth subconsciously.